


In Fair Exchange

by ambyr



Category: Spinning Silver - Naomi Novik
Genre: Collection: Purimgifts Day 1, F/M, Jewish Holidays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:13:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22981558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambyr/pseuds/ambyr
Summary: My husband was nodding slowly. "A more sensible custom that I expect from mortals."
Relationships: Miryem Mandelstam/The Staryk Lord
Comments: 24
Kudos: 121
Collections: Purimgifts 2020





	In Fair Exchange

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Elf (Elfwreck)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elfwreck/gifts).



The days in my mirror were growing longer, bit by bit. When I woke, now, the surface more often than not had started to fade from the pink of dawn. But snow still covered the ground in the mortal world, and so I saw no reason that I should let the slowly creeping spring make me miss the festival of Purim. There remained, however, one small barrier.

"My lord," I said delicately, after the servants had cleared the plates from dinner and left us alone in our rooms to sip our wine in peace, "there is a thing you should know about our next visit to my parents' home."

"Tell me, then," he said. "Or must I bargain for an answer?"

He was in a pleasant mood: good. "My mother will most likely present you with a gift."

His eyes narrowed, and he set his glass on the table. "I will not--"

I raised my hand for peace. "My mother will present you with a gift, _expecting an equal one in return_."

He settled back in his chair and looked at me. "What sort of gift?"

"A basket of delicacies for your table. Cookies filled with jam for certain--they are traditional--and perhaps fried cakes of goat cheese or dried apples from the previous year." When he did not interrupt, I went on. "It is a custom of my people, at this time of year, that all must exchange food with friends and family. If one is very poor, one gives one's bread and porridge to a friend, and receives their bread and porridge, and calls it good. But if one is wealthy, then one offers a pile of festive delights, and gets in return the same."

My husband was nodding slowly. "A more sensible custom that I expect from mortals."

"I am glad you approve," I said, with a wry smile. I did not mention the other part of the mitzvah: the charity one was expected to provide, open-handed, to the poor. That, I thought, would be harder to spin in Staryk terms--though no doubt there were Staryk in need, and perhaps, if I tried, _some_ way to grant it to them without upending their pride. But that was a matter for me to broach with my bondsmen later. 

His head tilted, considering. "What are the cookies you speak of?"

"Circles of dough, folded up into triangles and placed near a fire until they puff up and turn gold in color," I tried, and then wondered if that meant anything at all to a Staryk. Would I need to explain dough as well? "It is not necessary that you provide the _same_ food, only that the value--"

But my husband had a stubborn gleam in his eye, as he had once when I challenged him to court me by the customs of my own people. "You will instruct my cooks," he decided. "You will explain to them exactly what is expected. Surely something similar can be prepared."

I was not at all certain of that, but I knew when I had lost an argument. "I will speak with the cooks," I agreed. At least now, if I offered holiday charity to the kitchen servants, no one could say it was not in fair exchange.


End file.
